


Golden

by OrangePatrick



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Pining, Protective Anakin, Slow Burn, Such a slow burn, a Beheadding Occurs, a moment of dissociation, lots of sighing, yep that's right i'm hopping on the vampire wagon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangePatrick/pseuds/OrangePatrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Anakin was bitten, his Sire disappearing without a trace shortly after. He and Obi-Wan have been dealing with this new Change as well as they can, but with the sudden appearance of a nest of newly-deads, their cocoon of false normalcy threatens to shatter. Nightmares and premonitions plague Anakin as he searches for a way to destroy the nest, assisted by his Walmart co-worker Ahsoka Tano and the ever-faithful Obi-Wan. Throw in mutual pining, growing bloodlust, and ancient experimental spellbooks, wrap it all in a college town, then sprinkle it with snark and eye-rolling: you've got yourself this rollercoaster and my first ever chaptered fic with a coherent plot. Good luck to us all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mornings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IVK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IVK/gifts).



> _this is your fault_  
>  \--  
> ngl, sometimes the 16-year age-gap between Ani and Obi-Wan psyches me out, so I reduced it to 7-ish years?  
> anyway here we go let's hope it's not a total disaster

The apartment door slams shut just as the first rays of dawn began filtering in through the bay window where Obi-Wan meditates. He cracks open an eye in irritation, glaring at the hooded figure kicking off their boots by the door. “Must you announce your entrances so obnoxiously?”

Anakin rolls his golden eyes. “Gotta make sure you don’t get sucked too far into your own head.”

“I woke up ten minutes ago. I haven’t  _ been _ meditating long enough for that to happen,” Obi-Wan snorts, closing his eye again and straightening his spine. “How was your evening?”

“Boring as Wal-Mart at 3 A.M. can be,” the vampire mumbles. He still had his half of rent to pay, so about two months after he’d turned, Obi-Wan had suggested that he find some kind of graveyard shift to keep up a relatively normal life. He tugs the blinds shut on the window. “I hate Wal-Mart.” If Obi-Wan’s eyes were open, he would be rolling them. Anakin can practically feel it. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were  _ thinking _ something, though.”

Obi-Wan sighs and gives up for the morning. “Yes, Anakin, I’m  _ always _ thinking. That’s why I  _ meditate. _ Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Irritability came with being a relatively newborn vampire. Elegance and poise came with experience, and Anakin was far from that. Only about a year dead, he still struggled with ignoring his new hyper-aware sense, which led to headaches and, unfortunately, occasionally lashing out. (Obi-Wan is an expert at avoiding projectiles.)

Anakin just rolls his shoulders at the snarky comment, going straight for the fridge. “Do we have anything to eat?”

“ _ You’re _ the one looking in the fridge,” his roommate points out.

The vampire grabs a blood pack from the dwindling supply in the fridge and, without heating it up, walks over and sits down as close to Obi-Wan as he can get without being physically in the man’s lap.

“Why do you do this to me?” Obi-Wan asks, wincing as Anakin-- without breaking eye-contact-- rips into the pack, golden eyes flashing.

When he’s slurped out the last drip, Anakin gives him a bloody smile and says, “Because you always push my buttons, but you forget that I know how to push yours. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s barely 6 A.M.,” Obi-Wan points out.

“I just got off a 10-hour shift! I’m going to bed!”

Obi-Wan sighs, rising to his feet. Caffeinated tea-- that’s what he needs. He picks up the drained plastic pouch between two fingers, nose wrinkled in distaste, and carefully drops it into the kitchen trash can. It’s not like he loves Anakin any  _ less _ since he got bitten, but… the 24-year-old certainly hasn’t gotten any easier to deal with. Obi-Wan has always had more than enough sighs and eye-rolls to send Anakin’s way, but now that Anakin is nocturnal and even moodier than he was as a teenager, it feels like that’s the only interaction they ever have: snark, eye-rolls, sighs. Very deep, very heavy, very existential sighs. They used to be closer-- or, Obi-Wan is pretty sure they did. He met Anakin when the boy was 9 for a tutoring program. Anakin was a brilliant child, and 16-year-old Obi-Wan hadn’t actually liked him that much initially. But Anakin had a way of growing on you-- here they were, 15 years later, sharing a studio apartment in a college town somewhere between urban and suburban in nature. They moved in together when Obi-Wan found out that Anakin would be attending the same college that he was getting his Masters degree at, and they just haven’t moved.

Anakin was bitten at 23 by an old professor that disappeared off the face of the map shortly after the attack, leaving the bleeding man to stagger back home with a hand clasped to his neck, vision blurring and fading.

Obi-Wan remembers, in shuddering detail, watching the wound heal itself, mangled flesh stitching back together until the only evidence of the Change was Anakin’s blood smeared across his own neck.

When his ginger-peach black tea finishes steeping into his mug of heated water, the 30-year-old inhales deeply and finishes it in three deep gulps. He misses spending his mornings with Anakin: arguments about coffee versus tea, making pancakes on Saturdays and fighting over the last of the milk for their cereal.

There used to be a time where Obi-Wan thought that maybe he and Anakin might have even… No. No, they were best friends. Anakin was brash and blunt and wore his heart on his sleeve. Even if he hadn’t Changed, Anakin wouldn’t-- would never--

Anyway. It’s not like Obi-Wan loves Anakin any  _ less _ since he got bitten.

He’s just learned to become guarded.


	2. Midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin doesn't get sick. But this isn't sick; this is a bad feeling, a heaviness on the base of his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's some dissociation in this chapter based off of experience jsyk

If Anakin concentrates enough, he's pretty sure that he can  _ sense _ Obi-Wan to a degree. If he focuses inward, ignores the bass drum beat of Obi-Wan’s heart, Anakin thinks he can simply  _ feel _ Obi-Wan.

 

When he takes a deep breath to try, all he does is inhale the scent of blood, metallic on the roof of his mouth.

 

He tries harder, dampening down his physical senses, almost  _ meditating. _ He feels Obi-Wan in the kitchen. He feels the weary slope of Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He feels the soothing of hot tea. He  _ feels _ . Anakin tries prodding, sending affection and appreciation towards the other man, but either it doesn't work like that or Anakin is lying to himself about this ability, because Obi-Wan doesn't feel in return, doesn't pick up on Anakin’s prodding.

 

He already knew Obi-Wan would be in the kitchen. He already knew Obi-Wan would drink tea. He already knew that they were both  _ always _ , always tired. Anakin leaves his meditative state disappointed: he couldn't  _ feel _ . Obi-Wan was just  _ predictable. _

 

He wants to just go to sleep.

 

He usually would, but now he feels like he should go assure himself of Obi-Wan's realness, like if he doesn't see the man with his own two eyes he might disappear.

 

Obi-Wan jumps a little when he notices Anakin hovering on the kitchen threshold. He tells himself that he must’ve been too deep in thought to have heard Anakin’s arrival, but he knows that's not true. The vampire is silent. Quick. Unnoticeable until he wants to be noticed.

 

“I didn't mean to startle you,” Anakin drawls, the ghost of a smile just barely lightening his tone.

 

“I didn't realize that you only needed an hour of sleep,” Obi-Wan snarks back. “With all the fuss you put up about being tired.”

 

“I wanted to say bye before you left for work,” he explains in a mumble, shrugging. “I don’t like that you go so far.”

 

Obi-Wan attempts to placate his worries with a smile. “It’s only a couple miles away, Anakin, and walking is healthy.” He bites back a comment about enjoying the sun-- it would do nothing but make Anakin grumpy, brooding over lost adventures. If there was anyone in the world that had been more outdoorsy than Obi-Wan, it used to be Anakin, always ready to run around the city or spend hours in the wide green spaces, climbing trees and playing like a child even in his early twenties. “Besides, I never know if you’ll need the car during the day,” Obi-Wan adds, pushing past the vampire into the living room and over to the front door.

 

Anakin frowns, thinking, as he watches Obi-Wan lace up his shoes. His daily walk to the botanical garden isn’t necessarily what leaves Anakin restless, as Obi-Wan works a regular 5-day week and commutes every day. Anakin used to visit regularly with his homework back when he was a student at the university. He knows that taking their shared car-- a dark grey two-door with recently-tinted windows-- would be a waste of gas, but Anakin knows what lurks in the dark now.

 

He tries to  _ feel _ again, reaching out to Obi-Wan with intangible nerve endings.

 

Obi-Wan looks up at him, grabbing his keys, and asks, “Is everything okay?”

 

Anakin stops trying. “Yeah. Have a good day.”

 

“Get some sleep,” Obi-Wan smiles. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

The vampire remains standing in the center of the living room for a long time after the door clicks shut, rooted to the spot, focusing on a thread on the floor but not really seeing anything. Silence rings in his ears. A short shiver twitches his upper body. He’s here, but he’s not. Absently, he reaches up to his neck, touches the hand-sized place where his skin should be mangled and deeply scarred. But everything is smooth-- skin, the tendons underneath. Sometimes he wakes up with the breath of his old professor on his skin, the old man’s wheezing cackle still echoing in the dark corners of his mind.

 

Anakin squeezes his eyes shut, nails digging into his skin as he brings himself back. He doesn’t need to breathe but his chest heaves anyway. He’s here, he’s-- well. He’s  _ okay _ . He’s got Obi-Wan and a job and an apartment and a  _ life _ .

 

Feet dragging along the carpet, he forces himself into the darkness of his bedroom to finally just sleep.

 

He has nightmares.

 

He usually does.

~*~

Anakin jerks awake at noon, cold sweat sticking his sheets to his skin. Violent shivers undulate through him, convulsions that leave his chest feeling like it’s caving in and his stomach rolling. He hasn’t vomited since he was a teenager, 19 and getting trashed simply because he  _ could _ . He hasn’t been drunk in a long time. He physically  _ can’t _ anymore. He doesn’t really ever get sick, either.

 

Check that-- he got sick last year, the first time he ever killed a human being out of hunger. He had heaved for hours, Obi-Wan patiently rubbing circles in his back and pointedly holding his breath against the copper smell of blood.

 

Shower. Anakin needs a shower.

 

He stumbles out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom, scattering his clothes along the way. The steaming water washes away the cold sweat and chases away the last tendrils of Palpatine’s vile whispers and his mother’s screams. Despite this, something still doesn’t sit right in his stomach, like the world is just a fraction of a degree off-kilter.

 

The microwave clock reads  _ 1:07 _ when Anakin begins heating up his lunch, still towelling his hair. He’s running out of hospital-stolen packs and it makes him nervous. His stomach still feels like it’s sinking as he sinks his teeth through the plastic with a  _ pop _ .

 

A chilling urge to go check on Obi-Wan crosses his mind; in a blink, he has thrown away the empty bag, rinsed the red out of his mouth, and pulled on his biggest hoodie, pulling the hood over his face as he steps out into the apartment parking lot. His knuckles manage to singe before he gets the chance to hide them under his big sleeves, but he doesn’t really feel it. The botanical garden is just a few minutes’ drive away, but Anakin is on a mission and he’s never really been much of a safe driver anyway.

 

After crookedly parking across a space and a half, Anakin cuts the ignition and pulls out his cell, sinking in the driver’s seat.

 

Obi-Wan answers after two rings, immediately asking, “Is something wrong?”

 

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Come outside?”

 

Obi-Wan hangs up. It takes him two minutes to come outside, barely a fraction of a second to find the dark-windowed car, and just a moment to quickly slide into the passenger’s side without burning the photosensitive driver. “Anakin?”

 

The vampire takes a deep breath, wanting to reach out and hold onto Obi-Wan but knowing that he can’t, that if he does Obi-Wan will start asking questions, that if he does Obi-Wan will truly believe something horrible has happened.

 

“I just… have a weird feeling,” Anakin sighs, focusing his golden eyes on Obi-Wan. “Something doesn’t feel right. I feel sick, but… not? And I was… concerned about it.”  _ And you always make me feel better about these things. _ “And I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

Obi-Wan strokes his short beard in thought. “It could just be nothing,” he muses, “But I’m not entirely sure the extent of your supernatural power. Have you ever had a feeling like this before?”

 

Anakin scowls. “Yeah, right before my English lit teacher  _ sunk his fucking teeth into me. _ ”

 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan looks at him with sad eyes and reaches across the consul to put a gentle hand on Anakin’s jaw-- like it was easy. Like soft contact came naturally. “Everything is going to be fine.”

 

They sit together for a few more minutes, but Obi-Wan is still working so he can’t stay long-- hhas to go back to tending the gardens, doing the work he gets paid for. Anakin has always found it interesting, that a man with his Masters degree in British literature would end up spending his days caring for trees and flowers and songbirds. He sits alone in the car for a long time after Obi-Wan has already gone, staring at the garden paths and longing for them. He grew up in the harsh New Mexican sun; being banned from basking in the star’s warmth remains a sore spot. After a few moments of sitting completely still, focused yet unfocused, real but unreal, Anakin shakes himself out of his trance and drives back home.

 

Sleeping the feeling off sounds all fine and dandy until he actually steps into his own room-- he knows that if he sleeps in his own bed, nightmares will just continue to plague him for the next few hours. He could sleep on the couch…

 

Anakin pauses in the hall on his way to the living room, glancing over his shoulder at the second bedroom. He  _ could _ crash on the couch, or he could… just…

 

Obi-Wan keeps his room extremely tidy, everything in its place, bookshelf neatly ordered, clothes folded and put away, bed somewhat made. Anakin draws back the duvet and curls up in the center of Obi-Wan’s bed, knees close to his chest. Surrounded by barren walls, the foreign room should be uncomfortable, but it has the opposite effect. It’s so  _ Obi-Wan _ that Anakin just feels  _ safe. _

 

When Obi-Wan gets home and all the lights are turned off, he correctly assumes that Anakin is still sleeping. He just wasn’t expecting the vampire to be in his bed. It unsettles him-- Obi-Wan doesn’t mind that Anakin is there, it’s actually rather endearing, but it’s the possible reasons  _ why _ Anakin has chosen to forsake his own bedroom.

 

“You’re home,” Anakin mumbles without opening his eyes.

 

“Are you feeling better?”

 

“No. Not really.”

 

“Do you want dinner before you go to work?”

 

“Can I just  _ not _ go to work?”

 

Obi-Wan laughs. “Such a  _ child _ .”

  
“Whatever, old man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this in my drive was originally 'vampire AU oneshot for IVK' but now it's 'VAMPIRE AU GOT HELLA LONG??'
> 
> also i can't write chapters more than like 1500 words sorry


	3. Evenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust your instincts.

“I could kill you.”

 

It’s 8 P.M. on a Sunday night. Anakin is brooding on the couch, flipping channels, before he has to get his shit together to go to work. Obi-Wan is reclining in the other corner, a book in one hand and a fifth of whiskey in the other. His heartbeat doesn’t even change. Instead, he replies in a bored tone, “Yes, Anakin, you could. So could a car when I cross the street, or a wasp stinging me, or an infected mosquito, or a mugger grabbing me on my way home from work.”

 

Anakin hums, off-put. “Whatever.”

 

“Why? Are you  _ planning _ on killing me?” Obi-Wan asks in amusement, folding the corner of the page he’s on and putting his book in his lap.

 

“No,” Anakin mumbles. “Just thinking.”

 

The uneasiness in the base of his spine hasn’t left him. He’s aware of how  _ fragile _ Obi-Wan his, how thin his skin is, how weak his bones are. Something is going to happen. He’s not sure what or when, but  _ something _ is going to happen. He’s on edge, senses on high alert.

 

He pauses on a local news station, the camera panning a bird’s eye view of the local hospital, then jumps to a reporter standing just outside, police tape behind her.

 

_ “--not sure why someone would do such a thing,” _ a nurse is saying to the reporter. _ “So much of it was just suddenly gone! So many patients are having surgeries put off or are going to have to wait longer for life-saving treatments because of the sudden lack of blood supply.” _

 

The reporter thanks her and turns back to the cameraman. _ “Local authorities are currently working on finding any forensic evidence that might lead to the capture of…”  _ She struggles to find the right word.  _ “...robber. Currently, there are no leads or suspected reasons for someone to steal 250 gallons of donated blood. Back to you--” _

 

Anakin can feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, but the vampire can’t make himself meet the gaze. His eyes focus on the bottom corner of the TV, then unfocus as he struggles to internally process the clip he just watched. “That’s enough for almost a year. The only reason anyone would need to take so much in such a short time is if they’re new, or-- or if there’s some kind of… nest? But I’m… I thought I…”

 

“So you  _ do _ think it must be another vampire?” Obi-Wan asks, ever-so gentle in bringing Anakin back into focus.

 

Anakin rises to his feet. “Who--  _ what _ \-- else would need that much?” He shakes his head. “I have to-- have to go to work--  _ keep the door locked. _ Okay? Don’t leave the apartment until I’m back,” he demands, giving Obi-Wan a pointed look. “Don’t invite anyone in.”

 

“I know how it works,” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “But thank you for your concern. I’m planning on going to bed in an hour or so anyway. Don’t start anything.”

 

“I’m not gonna go seek out a wasp nest,” Anakin replies defensively. “But, hey, if I  _ see _ anyone…”

 

“Anakin!”

 

“I’m kidding,” he huffs under his breath, shoving on his Converse. “See you in the morning.”

 

Obi-Wan smiles fondly and picks his book back up. “Have a good evening.”

 

Anakin pulls his jacket tightly against his body as he walks the few blocks to Wal-Mart, golden eyes bright in the full moon’s light. He keeps his gaze shifting into the shadows, anticipation in every silent step. A rogue vampire could be dangerous-- could be  _ deadly _ . Plus, now he won’t be able to get blood from the hospital for a few weeks; the mass robbery will have their supply low and their inventory triple-checked every evening. He doesn’t even want to  _ think _ about what that means for his eating habits.

 

Assuming that these were newly-deads, their Sire must be either bag-feeding them to restrain them, or they’re alone and believe that they can control themselves. They might be afraid to kill, or maybe they’re weak.

 

Anakin had been alone. He remembers waking up and grabbing Obi-Wan, holding onto the first heartbeat he heard and being  _ hungry. _ He remembers Obi-Wan yelling, fighting, and he remembers running away, fighting himself. Blood bags aren’t good for the first few meals; they aren’t satisfying to the new hunger. It needs to be sated first, at least once; only then can control be learned. Whoever stole  _ that much blood _ has to be a group, all with the thirst of newly-deads. Either they have no idea what they’re doing, or… their Sire is building them up for their first hunt.

 

The idea makes Anakin shiver as he clocks in. The city would be overrun, a nest of undead. He has no idea who the potential Sire could even be, considering that  _ he _ hasn’t left anyone alive, and the only other vampire he’s ever met had skipped town a year ago.

 

His fellow evening-shifter, a sixteen-year-old homeschooler named Ahsoka, greets him eagerly as he hangs up his hoodie in the staff room. “What’s up, Skyguy?”

 

“Well, I woke up an hour ago,” he drawls teasingly.

 

“Did you hear about the hospital?”

 

He doesn’t wanna talk about it. “Mhm.”

 

“My mom is one of the nurses there. I hope she’s okay. Whole thing sounds really freaky-- all that blood suddenly just--” she snaps her fingers-- “ _ disappearing. _ ”

 

“Yup, really weird, that’s for sure.” With that, he leaves the staff room and abandons the conversation. From about midnight to 1 A.M., the store will be dead; 2:30 will bring a small burst of activity for nocturnals, other people with weird work schedules, and then the rest of the morning will drag. The people in this city run like clockwork.

 

He’s restocking the laundry and cleaning supplies when Ahsoka comes hurrying down the aisle straight for him. In a whisper almost too low for a normal human to hear, she tells him, “There’s a woman two aisles down buying bleach, and--”

 

“Ahsoka, buying bleach doesn’t make someone a mass-murderer,” he teases.

 

“She has the same color eyes as you,” she hisses, putting her hands on her hips. “I think she stared into my  _ soul _ .”

 

Anakin freezes. Ahsoka doesn’t know--  _ couldn’t _ know… Surely golden eyes are just… uncommon, and that’s what’s freaking the poor teenager out. Anything else would be ridiculous. “Don’t worry about it, Snips,” he brushes her off. Internally, though, he’s trying not to panic. Where would this other vampire even have come from? Is he really so blind to the rest of the city’s inhabitants? “Here, I’ll help you at the register if it’s really bothering you so much.”

 

Ahsoka frowns at him but nods, and together they walk to the front of the store and wait. There are only about five people working tonight: the shift manager, one of the deli workers, another cashier-slash-general-staff member, and Ahsoka and Anakin. Only one of the registers is open, but so are the self-service checkouts, and that’s where the golden-eyed woman goes. Ahsoka’s heartbeat almost drowns out the absence of the woman’s when she begins swiping her items. Tall and slender, the woman has sallow skin and a shaved head. Her lithe arms and legs no doubt hold the same immense strength and power of any undead creature. She looks up at them as she swipes her credit card, and her eyes flash when she meets Anakin’s steady gaze.

 

“I’m going on break,” he tells Ahsoka distractedly, tugging off his stupid blue vest and carelessly tossing it onto the register.

 

“ _ What?! _ ”

 

He ignores her, following the woman outside. She knows he’s there, he’s sure of it. Her pace quickens, plastic bag swinging in her hand. He trails her steadily for a block, but when they reach the corner she drops the bag and sprints. Anakin also bursts into a run, almost taking the corner too sharply and stumbling, but she’s still visible. She’s not as fast as her long legs would lead him to believe.  _ She must be young. _

 

He catches her three blocks down, reaching out and snagging her shoulder, slamming her into the brick office building lining the sidewalk. “Who are you?” he demands, forearm tight across her neck, pinning her.

 

She claws at his arms and spits and snarls and thrashes. He holds her tighter and growls, “Who. _Are_. You?!”

 

“Ventress,” she finally gasps out. “My name is Asajj Ventress.”

 

“Where did you come from? How old are you?”

 

“I was turned about 10 months ago.” Her fingernails dig into his skin, biting his nerves. “I was living here when it happened; I’ve only been back for about a month. Who are  _ you _ ?”

 

10 months turned… Surely she’s not young enough to have so recklessly been stealing a year’s supply of blood packs. But she said she’d lived here, in this city, when she’d been turned. “Who’s your Sire?” he presses. “Do you know who turned you?”

 

She opens her mouth to reply but is interrupted by a shout.

 

“Hey!” Both vampires look down the sidewalk at the teenage girl standing there, her dyed-white hair shining like a beacon against the dark night sky. She’s panting, heart beating hard from running. Once she sees that she has both of their attention, she jogs over.

 

“Ahsoka…?” Anakin asks warily, eying the stake in her hand.

 

“Yeah. Hey. Sup? Did we find out who the vampire lady is?” she asks, pushing a few stray hairs out of her face.

 

“Are you friends with a little ‘slayer?’” Ventress  smirks, attempting to shove Anakin off once more. “How cute.”

 

Ahsoka narrows her eyes and shoves the tip of her stake up under the vampire’s chin. “And we’ve currently got the advantage.” She glances at Anakin. “Is this the blood-stealing lady?”

 

Ventress curls her lip. “I, personally, cannot  _ stand _ the taste of stale blood. But the younger ones-- well, we can’t just let loose a bunch of hungry predators yet, can we?”

 

“What’s the point?” Anakin presses. “Who are you working with? Why would you even want to do something like this? Best case scenario, you kill off the entire population. Worst case, you expose the Underworld to humans and we all die.  _ Again. _ What’s the point?”

 

“Our time has come,” she hisses. “Why should we stay in the shadows, when we are the dominant species? The Underworld will not stay underground for much longer. You should join our army while the Emperor is still accepting recruits.”

 

“The  _ Emperor? _ Is that your Sire?”

 

“Sire?” Ahsoka interjects. “What?”

 

“The vampire that turns you,” Anakin mutters back, irritated by the interruption. “Your Sire.”

 

“He’s the Father,” Ventress smiles. “The Father of our race. The Father of our new world.”

 

Anakin drops her in disgust, stomach churning, but Ahsoka keeps her stake trained on the vampire’s throat. “Your plan is deeply flawed,” he tells her. “Nothing good will come of this.” His gut feeling had been right: something bad was happening. If an army was being raised, then that meant no one was safe…

 

To Ahsoka, he says, “Kill her.” 

 

The two Walmart employees walk back to the store together in silence, leaving behind a pile of ashes. When they pass by the plastic bag of cleaning bleach bottles, Ahsoka kicks it into a shallow dumpster-housing alley, blending it with the other trash.

 

“A ‘slayer,’ huh?” Anakin asks as they clock back in.

 

“A vampire, huh?” she replies with a grin.

 

Their banter does nothing to ease his tense shoulders. He’s worried. About these new vampires, about this so-called ‘Emperor,’ about what to do with Obi-Wan, how to keep him safe.

 

Like Obi-Wan had pointed out earlier, humans were subject to a number of perils every day. Anakin could kill him, sure, but so could other things.

 

Now, the world was potentially ending, and he was determined to stop it.

 

At 4:30 A.M., Anakin clocks out of his shift. Ahsoka finds him in the staff room, tugging on his big black hoodie, and asks, “We’re gonna do something about this, right? Hunt down this Emperor guy and kill him before he can hurt more people?”

 

He looks at her, still trying to believe that this petite teenager is a self-proclaimed hunter. He wants to tell her no; that this is not something a human can handle, let alone a teenager; that he has to figure this out on his own. But then he realizes that this  _ isn’t _ something to do alone. He’ll  _ need _ humans to help him-- it’s the humans that will be fighting for their lives, the humans fighting for their right to walk the earth as more than just prey.

 

He’s not sure where he’s going from here with this new information acquired from Ventress. But he pulls his hood up over his eyes and nods. “Definitely. Keep your eyes open.”

  
“I never close ‘em!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whOA WHAT'S THAT?? A /PLOT/???? HOLY SHIT is anyone else shocked bc quite frankly i definitely am. this is gonna BE SOMETHING! :D
> 
> in the meantime, if ur diggin vampakin, i recommend reading the work that this whole mess is inspired by: 'Midnight to Six' by IVK. she's an incredible author and it's a fantastic fic, check it out.


	4. Dusk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up kiddos. we're in for a ride.

Anakin pulls up outside the apartment buildings six minutes early, but Ahsoka bounds down the metal stairs immediately, heavy-looking backpack slapping against her back and waving despite not being able to see him through the tinted windows. He pushes his sunglasses farther up his nose to ward off the afternoon sunlight.

 

“What’ve you got?” he asks after she’s pulled the door shut behind her.

 

“Most of my mom’s vampire books, a couple little spell books, some old city maps,” she ticks off. “I’m kind of really convenient for you to have found, huh? Vampire slayer with a wiccan mom.”

 

“Mm, totally.”

 

With that, Anakin slams on the gas, throwing Ahsoka flat against her seat with the inertia. Back to the apartment to study, without a moment to spare. The police had found three mutilated bodies last night, and Anakin fears for what that means about this new  _ Emperor _ with his legion of vampires.

 

Obi-Wan doesn’t glance up from his book when the two clamor into the apartment until Ahsoka drops her backpack onto the table across from him. “Hi!” she says brightly. “You must be Anakin’s boyfriend!”

 

“He’s  _ not _ my boyfriend!” Anakin immediately argues.

 

“But you  _ never _ talk about  _ anyone _ else,” she counters.

 

Anakin huffs and throws himself into one of the chairs. “He’s literally my only friend.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve called him the love of your life on like, at least  _ three _ separate occasions.”

 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes as he folds the corner of his page, patiently waiting for them to finish their heated discussion.

 

“ _ So? _ ”

 

“You two could be siblings,” Obi-Wan interjects calmly, firmly ignoring any thoughts pertaining to having a relationship with Anakin. “You must be Ahsoka. I’d introduce myself, but it appears that you already know who I am.” He directs that last sentence at the vampire, who ducks his head-- he’d probably blush if he still had running blood. “You’ve brought books, then?”

 

Ahsoka nods, tugging out an abundance of old leather bound tomes, each varying in width and wear. Anakin reaches for one of the thicker volumes but pulls his hand back with a hiss. “Why does it  _ burn _ ?”

 

“Oh.” Ahsoka points at a golden cross embedded in the spine. “It must be a pretty good spell book if it’s warded against vampires. I’ll take that one. Here, this one doesn’t have any protective magics or guardian symbols.”

 

She hands him another book, the title stamped in silver lettering and reading simply  _ VAMPYRES. _ It appears to be one of the older books, its pages significantly more yellowed; when he opens it, the spine cracks and he sees that the words are hand-written in smooth black ink. He flips through a few pages in fascination, each page titled in beautiful calligraphy, different pieces illustrated with deep golds and reds. It appears to be some kind of documentary journal in no particular order besides that in which the author gathered information. “How am I supposed to find anything useful when these entries aren’t organized?” he complains under his breath.

 

“Hope for the best,” Obi-Wan mutters back. It’s the most Obi-Wan thing that he could’ve said.

 

The trio spends about an hour flipping through pages, looking for anything relatively similar or something that could eradicate such a large nest. Some pages are torn out; others are stuck together from when wet ink dried against its neighbor. Anakin’s vision is getting blurry when a red title catches his eye:  _ On Potentially Reversing The Effects of Vampirism. _ He glances up at Ahsoka and Obi-Wan nervously like it’s something to hide, but both of them are engrossed in their own reading.

 

He glances farther down the page. For the most part, it looks like some kind of spell or chant. There’s no ingredients list, but a small illustration shows what appear to be viles of blood and a rosary. If he could somehow manage to… But, no, this is just an experiment. Besides, they have more important matters at hand.

 

“Hey, I think I finally found something helpful!” Ahsoka pipes up eagerly. “There’s a whole chapter on vampire covens and stereotypical habits. If our head honcho is some ancient guy, he’s probably doing similar stuff to covens of past.”

 

Obi-Wan pushes his own volume away, rubbing his eyes. “How about you tell us about it over dinner? Does that sound good to you two? Because I’m starving.”

 

As he and Ahsoka start making a box of Easy Mac, Anakin cracks open the fridge. Food would certainly improve his focus, but when he looks back in the corner where his rack of blood bags hangs, there’s only one left.

 

He’ll be fine skipping dinner. He doesn’t necessarily  _ need _ to feed every day-- that was indulgent, attempting to keep a sense of normalcy around Obi-Wan. It made him just a little bit more human.

 

Thinking back to the day where he had slurped an entire liter just to bother his roommate, all Anakin can see is a waste. If only he’d known that his hospital supply would’ve been cut off… He’s never had animal blood before, but if he can’t control himself before the hospital recovers from the robbery, then he might have to.

 

A few feet away, his companions’ heartbeats feel like nails driving into his skull.

 

_ It wouldn’t hurt to just… _ no, no, no-- he can’t do that. Not to Ahsoka, and he would never forgive himself if Obi-Wan--

 

Fuck it. Anakin grabs the last blood pack and tosses it into the microwave. He’ll deal with secondary solutions later. Right now, his hunger pains are sending him down trails of thoughts that he doesn’t want to follow.

 

He can’t stop his gaze from wandering, though, and it’s only the incessant beeping of the microwave that draws his eyes sharply away from the pulse point on Obi-Wan’s neck.

 

Neither human has noticed. Or maybe Ahsoka has, with her hunter eyes and attentiveness.

 

“You holding up okay?” she asks.

 

“Tired,” he tells her, biting into the plastic.  _ Hungry. _ But not hungry  _ enough _ . He has time before he gets to that point.

 

She gives him a mildly wary once-over but shrugs it off, grabbing a bowl of Mac with one hand and the old book with the other. “Okay, so the interesting thing I found: apparently, different circumstances of Changing for vampires can result in different special powers. Sure, the everyday biter has inhuman strength and senses, but a lot have something a little extra. Telepathy, for one, apparently is common in vampires who were told beforehand about the Change, or had a special bond with the biter. Telekinesis, visual manipulation, premonitions, hypnosis, flight; all sorts of different individual abilities. That might make fighting these newly-deads tough.”

 

“Premonitions?” Anakin echos, stuck on the word.

 

“Yeah, y’know,” Ahsoka waves her fork around, “Getting feelings or visions or dreams of things before they happen.” She leans over the book, narrowly missing dripping melted cheese onto the yellowed pages. “Uh, looks like those are the vampires who knew something was wrong before it was happening. Like, the Change wasn’t a surprise attack, y’know?” She shrugs. “You’d think that  _ anyone _ would get a bad feeling about their impending death, but I guess not.”

 

“Not everyone is trained to sense them like you are.”

 

“Fair.”

 

Obi-Wan reaches for one of the folded maps. “From what I’ve gathered, Underworld creatures tend to take over the outdated underground passages, like original sewer systems or closed-off train stops. If we can find where these are accessible from, then we’ll be able to figure out how to find the nest.”

 

Anakin helps him gently spread the map across the table. The area is built on a grid, streets making square blocks and sewers following the grid fairly closely. “They go everywhere,” Anakin groans, eyes flitting over the messy array of lines. “This will be impossible.”

 

“Not quite.” Obi-Wan traces his finger down a sewer line that stops just outside of the grid, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. No roads lead down that way. “An opening outside of town, granting immediate access to every single block in the city.”

 

“Let’s get started!” Ahsoka grins.

 

Anakin glances towards the window, where dusk kisses the edges of the blinds. He shakes his head. “Not until it’s light out. They may see you, but they won’t be able to do anything about it.”

 

She deflates a little but agrees. “Fine. But as  _ soon _ as it gets light out.”

 

“We could always try to find some of them out and about,” Obi-Wan says. “You’re a vampire slayer, you should be able to track a few and question them.”

~*~

“This isn’t working,” Ahsoka sighs, third body of the evening disintegrating into ash at their feet.

 

Anakin shakes his head. “We just have to keep trying. It’s only 2 A.M.”

 

If looks could kill, he’d be joining the pile of ashes.

 

“You’re a  _ teenager _ !” he protests at her glare. “This is, like, your prime time of day! Besides, you usually work night shifts. Don’t give me that look. At least vampire hunting is more fun than stocking shelves.”

 

Ahsoka sighs and rolls her shoulders. “Fine, you got me there. Where do we find the next one?”

 

That was always the hard part: where to go next.

 

“This is a college town,” Anakin points out. “Let’s just hang around the bar strip and look out for any suspicious activity, I guess.”

 

Their evening has been extremely stop-and-go, with long stretches of boredom between intense bursts of adrenaline and attacks. Anakin is exhausted, and he can see in the way that Ahsoka drags her feet that she’s getting sick of the cat-and-mouse game as well.

 

It hits him in a wave: a strong metallic scent (blood blood blood) and a muffled cry, the sensation of being thrown and the feeling of scraped knees healing in nanoseconds. Gold eyes, blue-green eyes. Grey hair.

 

Anakin stumbles, sagging against the nearest storefront.

 

“You okay, Skyguy?” Ahsoka immediately asks, touching his arm.

 

“Yeah,” Anakin immediately assures her, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “I just… Let’s just be careful, okay? We’re both tired of the hunt. Don’t let anyone catch us off-guard.”

 

Ahsoka narrows her eyes at him but nods. “Don’t worry about it. No one gets the jump on me.” Her confidence is both endearing and terrifying.

 

“Let’s just get this night over with,” Anakin sighs, pushing off the wall. “C’mon.”

 

They don’t find anything for the next two hours. When Ahsoka points out that it’s finally 4 A.M., Anakin agrees that their patrol is over. The streets are long-since deserted. The only information that they’d gotten from the three kills was that  the nest had about 30 newly-deads and some odd number of veteran biters. They were at a dead-end with who exactly this ‘emperor’ was, but he must’ve been an ancient man-- the newly-deads were terrified of him, but indebted to him for granting them eternal life.

 

Anakin couldn’t help but scoff at that. Vampirism had never been a blessing, only a curse. It had taken him from the sunshine, from finishing his degree, from Obi-Wan, in a way. He would never be as close to the older man as he used to be. Their lives now ran on different schedules. They had different priorities. Obi-Wan was aging and growing and being an  _ adult. _ Anakin was… stuck, forever, frozen at 23. Roadblock.

 

He and Ahsoka sit in silence as he drives her home. “Get some sleep,” he tells her.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Will do,  _ Mom. _ Obi-Wan and I are gonna check out that sewer entrance in the early afternoon. We’ll let you know how that goes.”

 

Anakin nods and waits until he sees that she’s safely inside her apartment before speeding off.

 

His own apartment is dark when he arrives, Obi-Wan still asleep for another hour or two. Anakin kicks off his boots as quietly as he can, for once trying to avoid waking up his roommate. When he falls into his mattress, unease washes over him. His ceiling spins above him, shadows dripping with whispers of nightmares.

  
He jumps to his feet, hugging himself as he shuffles down the hall and uses his hip to nudge open Obi-Wan’s door. The redhead is breathing evenly, his heartbeat a slow and steady lull in Anakin’s ears. Anakin hesitantly sinks down onto the bed. Obi-Wan doesn’t move, heartbeat remaining consistent. So Anakin curls up behind him, pressing his face into the spot between Obi-Wan’s shoulder blades, and falls asleep.


	5. Midnights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you might habe noticed that the LAST chapter was originally called 'midnights' but i switched it to 'dusk' in order for the chapter titles to match with their content! just wanted to point that out quick. happy reading!

Obi-Wan double-checks the map. “We’re headed in the right direction.”

 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Ahsoka sighs, looking around the crumbling asphalt. “Are you  _ positive _ that this is the direction that old sewer pipe goes to?”

 

The road dissipates into a dirt path winding through thick trees. The two exchange glances, then mutually shrug and head up the path, pushing branches out of their way. The shade is a relief from the high noon sun, but the farther they go, the thicker the underbrush. Soon enough the path disappears altogether.

 

“This is a dead end,” Ahsoka huffs after half an hour of struggling through the forest cluster. “There’s no way that anyone is out here.”

 

Obi-Wan looks around helplessly. “You’re right. We’re back at square one.” He rechecks the map once more-- the fading page covered in old sewer systems throughout the city. It had been their only lead in finding this new nest and therefore the ‘Empire.’ The deadend marked outside of the city skirts had been about three miles down a beaten-up road that no cars or buses had touched in the past three decades, leaving the duo to walk the whole way.

 

For nothing.

 

“Let’s go,” he sighs, turning around and fighting his way back out of the trees. Ahsoka follows silently, saddened by the sudden slope of his shoulders. They’d been so hopeful.

 

“There isn’t really many places for a bunch of dead guys to hang out in town,” she points out, trying to stay positive. “I’m sure we’ll find another option soon. We just have to think outside the box!”

 

Obi-Wan smiles a little at that. “You are the most positive sixteen-year-old that I’ve ever met.”

 

“Yeah, well, you knew Anakin when he was sixteen. He’s an outlier and shouldn’t be included in the data.”

 

That draws out a laugh from the older man. “I didn’t think so.” His eyes are sad, though.

 

They fight through the underbrush in silence, only their labored breathing disturbing the air around them, until Ahsoka asks, “You know this isn’t a complete dead end, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You just seem… really disappointed.”

 

Obi-Wan shrugs. “I want to do this for Anakin.”

 

By the time they get back to Obi-Wan’s apartment, the afternoon has passed its peak and both hunter and human are exhausted. Ahsoka collapses on the couch as Obi-Wan heads into the kitchen for iced tea.

 

When he opens the fridge to find the pitcher, he glances back at Anakin’s storage corner only to find it empty. He frowns; he was unaware that Anakin was out of blood, and that certainly couldn’t bode well for the next few days. Could vampires starve to death? Did they require a certain amount of blood per day? Week? Month? What exactly was a standard vampire diet? Ahsoka’s stack of vampire books was still on the kitchen table. Perhaps there would be answers there.

 

“C’mon, we have research to do,” Obi-Wan says as he sets down a tall glass of tea in front of the teenager.

 

She groans obnoxiously, slouching deeper into the couch and making him laugh, but ultimately grabs the glass and moves to the table to sit with him. They needed to figure this out, and quickly, before the stakes got any higher.

 

Outside, the sun began to set.

~*~

When Anakin gets up for work, he immediately picks up on the sound of two heartbeats and flipping pages. He rolls his shoulders, cracking his joints, and steps out into the hall, slipping through the darkness towards the illuminated kitchen, where Obi-Wan sits at the table reading and drinking tea. Beside him, Ahsoka pillows her head with her arms and is fast asleep, half-empty glass of iced tea beside her. He resists the urge to smile like an idiot at the serene image before him.

 

“How was the excursion?” Anakin asks softly, leaning against the wall.

 

Obi-Wan jumps a bit, startled. “How many times must I tell you not to sneak around our own house?”

 

From his tone, Anakin can tell that the man has had a long day. “Dead end, huh?”

 

“Unfortunately. Absolutely nothing there, and it was our only lead.”

 

Anakin circles around the table to squeeze Obi-Wan’s shoulder in appreciation, then looks down at the book in his hands. “Have you guys found out anything interesting?”

 

The 24-year-old had become much more tactile recently, and Obi-Wan appreciates the comforting gesture. “Not really. Ahsoka thinks that we just need to get back to negotiating with any vampires you two can find.” He turns to look up at his golden-eyed friend. “I noticed that you’re out of… food.”

 

Anakin’s face hardens as he clenches his jaw. “Yeah. I’m fine though.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

“How long has it been since you last ate?” Obi-Wan presses.

 

“Just a couple days,” Anakin wards off, crossing his arms. “I told you not to worry about it.”

 

“Hey,” Obi-Wan frowns, reaching out to his friend. “I’m just concerned. I care about you.”

 

Anakin sighs deeply. “Yeah. Thank you.” He turns his gaze to Ahsoka, her dark shoulders rising and falling with each deep inhale and exhale of sleep. “I should probably take her home. I have to work tonight, too.”

 

Obi-Wan nods, closing the book and scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “Go get ready and I’ll wake her up.”

~*~

Anakin is zoned out all night, stocking shelves automatically while not really there, present in time. He is acutely aware of every single heartbeat within the giant store.

 

He bites his own tongue and swallows the metallic taste of his own blood.

 

His stomach rolls.

His nerves ring with apprehension.

He’s not sure why.

He’s almost forgotten about the harsh vision that had battered his mind when he’d been out hunting with Ahsoka for information.

 

4:30 can’t come fast enough. And he’s  _ hungry _ …

 

He feels dazed, sluggish. Like a zombie. Like he’s not in control of himself. Jerky. Robotic.

 

“Go home, Skywalker,” his manager tells him at 4. Anakin feels like he hears it through water as he nods absentmindedly, walking into the back room to clock out and grab his hoodie.

 

When he steps outside, it’s drizzling slightly, the moon barely peaking through grey cloud cover. Across the street, a heartbeat locks the front door of her own store.

 

The kickdrum of her pulse is loud in his ears.

 

She meets his golden eyes across the street, picks up her pace. The rush of her blood makes his mouth water as he trails along, keeping up on the other side of the road. He sticks to the shadows; she becomes paranoid. Every shockwave of fear just makes her heart pump all the faster.

 

Rain is pooling in the curbs.   
  
He lets his prey get ahead of him by about a block. Then he crosses the dimly lit street in order to trail behind her. He can hear the blood rushing in her ears as she begins to panic, louder than the brewing storm.   
  
He's so hungry, tunnel vision between her arteries and his fangs. It has been two weeks since his last meal-- and as he drags her into the shadows, sinks his teeth into the first living body in almost a year, he wonders how he ever survived off of hospital blood bags.   
  
He keeps her alive, her heart beating blood right into his mouth and doing all the work for him until she's too weak to keep living.

  
Oh, the thrill of the hunt.

~*~

Obi-Wan Kenobi wakes up with a jolt and a chill down his spine. "Anakin?" he calls out to the dark, digital clock blinking a blue glowing  _ 4:27. _   
  
A different set of golden eyes reflect the moonlight drifting through Obi-Wan's room: lion eyes, narrowed and predatory.   
  


“You know, I’m looking for someone with that very name,” the stranger drawls with a smirk, eyes sparkling and wicket. His white hair stands out in the dark room, a neatly trimmed beard with the faintest streaks of grey. “Anakin Skywalker. Where might I find him?”

  
Obi-Wan fumbles for the stake on his nightstand but knows it's of no use. Rain slaps the windowpanes in claps. “Who are you? What do you want from him?”

 

“How rude of me to forget to introduce myself!” he exclaims, voice riddled with sarcasm. “My name is Dooku. And as for my intentions-- my dear Emperor is looking for him,” the vampire smiles, eyes sour and tone grave. “I do believe that they once were rather close… very close indeed.” He bares his teeth. “And I think I know just how to get the little Skywalker. What better way to lure him in than with such pretty bait?”

 

It’s hardly a struggle-- gentle Kenobi is no match for the superhuman brute strength of vampires. Dooku pins him, nails digging into his wrists hard enough to bruise but not break skin. He presses a forefinger to Obi-Wan’s head and softly commands, “Cease your struggle and sleep.”

 

Obi-Wan’s eyes close as he falls into unconsciousness.

~*~

Anakin stumbles into the apartment covered in blood, teeth and hoodie stained.

 

The whole house is dark.

 

“Obi-Wan?” he calls out timidly, hesitantly stepping down the hall. Nothing but silence answers him. “Obi-Wan?” he whispers, touching the man’s bedroom door. It falls open without any kind of resistance.

 

Paperback books are scattered across the carpet, thrown from their place on the bookshelf. The shelves are cracked and dented along their middle, and the bed itself is completely unmade, as if Obi-Wan had gotten up in a rush.

 

Anakin’s blood boils as he slams his fist into the white plaster wall. Someone has stolen  _ his _ human-- and he’s going to find them. If anyone--  _ anyone-- _ has hurt Obi-Wan, they are going to face  _ his _ wrath.

  
He is going to find them. And he is going to kill them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooooot the plot is MOVING and we've only got a couple chapters yet... 7 isn't a for sure number and is subject to change, but i do believe we're almost at the end of this road.
> 
> "but jack! they haven't even kissed yet!" yes yes dear reader. there has been a 'slow burn' tag added. whoops.


	6. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! sorry for such a prolonged update! at first, my excuse was the Obikin Big Bang (shameless self promotion if you wanna go check out my fic... it's called 'Intergalactic' and it's probably one of the best things I've ever written?? js.) but after the OBB was over... I just Struggled(TM).  
> anyway, it's almost the end!  
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: violence, fighting, inflicting wounds, a beheading...  
> ((any mistakes are my own; let me know if you see anything Horribly Awful))

Anakin sits down by the bay window, the curtains pulled tightly shut, and closes his eyes with a deep exhale. He rolls his shoulders back, straightening his spine, and  _ focuses.  _ He reaches out with his mind, fighting the crashing waves of his own thoughts and emotions. Once he’d believed that he could feel Obi-Wan; now, he’s banking on something that he’d previously dismissed. Ahsoka’s books had been filled with potential powers for various vampires to have.

Anakin has premonitions, the bad feeling that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach being the fruit of this budding vampire ‘Empire.’ While hunting with Ahsoka, he’d had a vision of what he now realizes was Obi-Wan’s capture. All in all, he really doesn’t think that having a mental connection with his best friend is too far out of the ballpark.

_ Obi-Wan,  _ he thinks, visualizing a mental map of their city,  _ where are you? Where could they have taken you? _

In the stillness of the apartment, Anakin takes another deep breath and discovers something new: the sickly sour smell of vampire blood. He opens his golden eyes and jumps to his feet, carefully breathing through his nose. How had he not noticed the smell before?

He traces the scent to Obi-Wan’s still-demolished room and finds it lingering on the windowsill. He chances a peek outside, where the sky is turning a ruddy pink as dawn breaks over the horizon. He clenches his fists, turns on his heel, and grabs a black hoodie from his closet. Sunshine or not, he’s getting Obi-Wan back.  _ Today. _

Ahsoka’s phone rings twice before she picks up. “What’s up, Skyguy?” she asks, sounding groggy. She probably just got home from work.

“I have a trail. They took Obi-Wan. I’ll call you when I find them. I’ll need back-up, whoever you can get,” Anakin bites out before hanging up. He starts to leave, but hesitates when he remembers the old book still sitting on his kitchen table. On a hunch, he rushes over to it and flips through the yellowing pages until he finds what he’s looking for. He rips it out as carefully as he can in his rush, folding it and tucking it into his pocket before finally leaving the apartment to follow the scent trail.

Ahsoka stares down at her phone in disbelief, then shakes herself awake and starts gathering contacts. After all, one doesn’t simply become a vampire slayer at sixteen without any kind of mentoring or guidance.

She sends out a mass text to their Mage GroupMe chat requesting anyone awake to be ready to ambush a nest and gets six affirmative replies. With that, she begins gathering supplies into a duffle bag-- stakes, crosses, holy water, more stakes.

Meanwhile, Anakin manages to track the smell to a smattering of blood on a dark sidewalk corner. He surveys the area and finds a few more speckles trailing across the street, like whoever Obi-Wan’s kidnapper was wanted to leave a trail.

That doesn’t bode well.

He inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and crosses the street. The sun is rising. He doesn’t have time to waste.

* * *

 

Obi-Wan tugs on the fabric strips tied around his wrists. The bonds dig into his skin but neither give nor tighten up. He licks his lips and tries squirming around in the cold metal chair they’ve tied him to. He didn’t get much of a chance to look around when he’d arrived, especially as everything was still dark and the only lights on in the ancient building were candles lining the hallways. Made sense, though-- vampires don’t need light to see. Creatures of the night and all that.

He could distinctly recall the location of the building, though. It was an old office building of sorts, like a mechanic’s garage-- part warehouse, part rooms-- sitting just a few blocks from the fringes of the college campus. It was a building he’d passed on a daily basis when attending the school.

His musing is cut short when Dooku steps into the room, footsteps somehow silent against the cement floor. “You know, if Skywalker cooperates,” the vampire drawls, “you might come out of this alive-- er,  _ undead.” _

Obi-Wan lifts his lip in a sneer. “Oh really? And what exactly is it that you’re planning?”

“Kenobi,” he chastises, “I pegged you to be smarter than this. Isn’t it obvious? This will become a new capital for vampire kind, a place for the Underworld to rise and walk freely. Here we begin our annihilation of the human race. We may be few in number now, but this is just the beginning.”

Obi-Wan furrows his brow. “Annihilation of the human race? Pardon my French, but what the  _ fuck  _ are you going to eat when there are no humans left?”

“By the time we manage to slaughter 7 billion people--” Dooku rolls his eyes-- “it will be centuries from this point. Farm them, perhaps? Keep them locked up for feeding. We really only need a few to stick around.”

“What does Anakin have to do with any of this?” the human all but growls.

Dooku smirks. “Oh, he’s just a personal favorite of the Emperor. One of the oldest of the new nest, certainly one of the strongest. From what we’ve observed, he’s certainly deadly in every aspect of his hunting abilities. The younglings will need someone to teach them how to make things as clean as possible.”

“This is madness,” Obi-Wan murmurs, fixing his gaze to the ground.

Dooku’s smirk only widens as he steps forward and leans down into Obi-Wan’s personal space. “Is it?”

He ruffles the human’s hair before he leaves the dark room. From the hall, Obi-Wan can hear the low murmurs of other voices. He raises his eyes to the ceiling in a silent plea to anyone that might be listening and catches sight of a small rectangle of light. Turning his head and squinting, he realizes that it’s a small window to the outside, previously unnoticeable in the dark of night. He can make out almost nothing but grass and dandelions, but the sight gives him great hope.

* * *

 

“So what is it that we’re waiting for?” Barriss asks, organizing her weapons bag as Luminara looks over her shoulder.

Ahsoka twirls a stake in her hand like a baton. “Anakin is gonna text me the location of the base when he finds it. Then we can go.”

From her seat by the window, Aayla Secura points out, “The sun is rising. This should be easy enough if we can get the vampires into the light.”

Next to Ahsoka, Padme shakes her head. “It sounds like this nest is sophisticated. What was it that they called it?”

“The ‘Empire,’” Ahsoka reminds her.

“I always knew vampires were stereotyped as dramatic, but--  _ really?” _

Five different text tones go off. Ahsoka opens up GroupMe to see a message from Adi Gallia backing out from the hunt. “That just leaves us waiting for Kit. I hope Anakin is doing okay.”

“Sun’s up,” Aayla reports, pulling the curtain shut and hopping to her feet. “What’s taking your vampire friend so long?”

Ahsoka shrugs helplessly. “We don’t know how far away the base is. We tried doing some in-city patrols, and Obi-Wan and I found a potential spot, but it was a dead end. They could be hiding out miles away.”

“They’d have to be close if they’re only feeding from this area,” Padme frowns.

“Has anyone heard from Kit yet?” Luminara asks just as a knock sounds on the door. Aayla goes to answer it as Ahsoka’s phone starts ringing.

“What’s up, Skyguy?” she asks, immediately alert. The other ladies, now accompanied by Kit Fisto, lean in to hear.

“They’re on the edge of campus,” Anakin hisses into his phone, hidden in a shaded alleyway between buildings. “The old engineering building, on the far east side, the one that’s scheduled for demolition next year.”

“I’ve never been to the college, I’m not sure which building that is,” Ahsoka reminds him, biting her lip.

“I do,” Padme jumps in, relieved. “The old garage, right? I can get us over there unseen.”

_ “That’s the building. I’m gonna scout out any possible entries and might be inside already by the time you get here. How many of you are there?” _

“Four very experienced adults and two kind-of experienced teenagers,” Ahsoka counts off.

Anakin pauses. “Ahsoka… how much experience is ‘kind-of’?”

“I’ve killed a few vampires in my time! We patrolled together!”

_ “I was assuming that you killed vampires outside of your experiences with me.” _

“Well--” Ahsoka starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“We don’t have time for this debate,” Kit reminds them. “We need to get going.”

_ “See you soon, Skyguy,” _ Ahsoka says before hanging up.

Anakin shoves his phone back into his pocket before creeping out from his shade. The sun is still low enough in the sky that he has to shield his eyes as he walks, nervously glancing around at the slowly-waking campus. From his angle, he can’t see any movement from inside, but the potent smell of sour blood in his nostrils tells him that he’s exactly where he needs to be.

He skirts the edges of the crumbling building, ducking under windows and on high-alert. Along the back corner is a shallow basement window, but he skips past it.  _ Too easy. Can’t see into my surroundings. _ One of the back classroom windows is open, though, and he chances a peek inside. The sun is on the opposite side of the building, casting Anakin in shade and providing no visual for inside the room. He can see enough, though, due to the candles inside. There’s a doorway on the opposite wall that leads into a dim hallway, but he can’t sense any kind of activity, so he jumps in, vaulting the low windowsill in one silent swoop.

Weaponless spare his fangs and bare hands, armed with only the knowledge of the sun’s placement in the sky and that backup is on its way, Anakin begins crawling into the belly of the beast.

* * *

 

Sheev Palpatine smiles from his throne-- an old, uncomfortable thing, set against the back wall of a musty old room that he once used to prey upon fresh blood. His prodigy child has arrived.

* * *

 

“Here’s the plan: Barriss and Luminara will clear out all the windows and doors to let in as much light as possible. Kit and Aayla, you’ll take this back entrance to clear them out as much as possible. The biters won’t last long out in the sun. Padme and I will hunt down Anakin and hopefully Obi-Wan will be with him. None of the vampires get out alive, okay? We need to ghost this Emperor dude before he can slip away from us again. Everyone clear?”

The campus has yet to come alive despite the sun’s steady rise into the sky. People are too wary of being alone during dusks and dawns, too many recent missing persons and attacks. Humanity’s instinct to survive works in the hunting group’s favor; no one comes poking around when Barriss and Luminara begin smashing windows, starting from the back of the old building and working their way around the front. They rip away curtains as they go, neither one subtle whatsoever. Once the duo is about halfway through, Kit and Aayla hop through the broken back windows and into the nest, stakes poised and ready.

Ahsoka is ready to follow when she notices another widow, this one at ground-level. A basement. She looks around for her team, but only Padme remains with her. “This might be a really stupid idea,” she starts.

“But this is a rescue mission,” Padme smiles, pulling out a stake before kicking in the glass.

She and Ahsoka find themselves in an almost-empty room, stakes poised as they face none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi, neatly tied to a metal chair with cloth strips.

“Y’know, this might’ve been too easy,” Padme says, glancing at Ahsoka.

“Yeah, maybe Skyguy was overthinking this whole ‘rescue mission’ thing.”

* * *

 

“My boy,” Palpatine smiles, teeth crooked and sharp. “How kind of you to finally join me.”

Time has not favored the elderly vampire. As the centuries have passed, his body hair has abandoned him; the skin on his face has drawn back towards his hairline save for a few deep wrinkles along his forehead; his nose has triangulated and become vaguely pointed upward.

He looks exactly like the monster that haunts Anakin’s nightmares.

“I’m here for a friend of mine,” Anakin growls, staying as far away from the Emperor’s throne as he can.

Palpatine’s gross smile widens, tightening the pale skin of his cheeks. “Ah, yes, young Kenobi! He is safe and sound. We were just waiting on you, child.” His red eyes shift to the shadows on his left. “Dooku, would you like the honor?”

“I would love nothing more, my lord.”

Anakin’s gut lurches at the sight of the white-haired vampire-- the one who appeared in his premonition; the one who kidnapped Obi-Wan. Anakin isn’t sure what the point of it all even is: if Dooku is going to kill him, why not do that right away instead of taking Obi-Wan? And if Dooku  _ isn’t _ going to kill him, well… What’s the point at all?

“You see, dear Anakin,” Palpatine starts, relaxing down into his throne, “I want you to help me build my Empire. You were one of my first, you know. That I allowed to Turn. You’re special, my boy, and I want you to prove it.”

_ Prove it?  _ Anakin scowls, ready to argue, but then Dooku lunges at him, teeth bared. He reacts by throwing up his left forearm, which leaves him open to throw a side hook at Dooku’s torso. Dooku rips his fangs from Anakin’s arm and catches Anakin’s fist with his palm, so Anakin kicks out, knocking the other vampire away from him.

From his front-row seat, Palpatine quietly cackles to himself.

* * *

 

“You’d think there’d be guards or something,” Ahsoka mutters as the trio creeps down the candle-lit hallway and up the basement stairs.

“Either the others are doing their jobs really well, or Obi-Wan wasn’t as high of a priority as they led us to believe,” Padme whispers back. Obi-Wan tries not to be offended by her statement.

“I’m vaguely concerned why an engineering building had such a catacomb of hallways as a basement,” Obi-Wan comments as they push open the stairwell door.

The upstairs hall is filled with light, a series of broken windows and torn curtains lighting the path. Ahsoka kicks some glass and grey lumps of ash. “Barriss and Luminara did well.”

“How many of you are there?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Six of us, plus you and Anakin. What was the estimated number of vamps? Thirty? We’ll be perfectly fine. The only issue will probably be making sure this Emperor guy doesn’t escape… Also, we don’t really know where Anakin is.”

“Did he not come in with you?” Concern colors his voice.

“Well--”

Up ahead, a commotion interrupts Ahsoka’s sketchy explanation of events leading up to the situation. It seems that the trio has caught up to Kit and Aayla, wielding two stakes each as they slashed down these freshly-turned vampires.

For vampires, graceful movements and well-placed arrogance came with age, with limitless testing of using ruthless methods to fine-tune and hone their skills. Too much arrogance combined with almost zero experience would be the nest’s downfall. Despite their falling brethren, each immortal attacked with cocky confidence that left them unguarded and easily open to attack. It quickly became obvious that these biters had been lured in with promises of immortality-- their Sire had just left out the bit where, yeah, they  _ could _ actually still die. By taking a wooden stake to the heart.

Padme and Ahsoka jumped in on the action; with four trained hunters, the room was quickly cleared of vampires and instead filled with piles of ash.

“A faster way might be burning down the building,” Kit muses, glancing at the candles lighting their way. “All the biters would burn, and we could snag any that tried to escape.”

* * *

 

Stake to the heart, fire, too much direct exposure to sunlight. Many things that could kill vampires, none of which Anakin had on hand.

Method 4: beheading. Disgusting, but doable-- with either an axe or sword of some kind, or with bare hands and brute strength.

It hasn’t yet occurred to Anakin yet as he continues to deflect Dooku’s attacks, unnerved by Palpatine’s occasional cackling.

The initial fang wound on his forearm has almost completely closed up, but he can feel the bruises on his torso setting in and his broken knuckles haven’t yet had the chance to heal. Dooku has been keeping up, knocking Anakin to his knees several times. Dooku may look like an old man, but vampirism has lent him a helping hand. He matches Anakin in strength and speed, but is taller and skinnier. While Anakin had been fairly built even as a mortal, it’s obvious that Dooku isn’t used to his own strength quite yet.

With a swift maneuver, Anakin knocks Dooku to his knees and pins him. As Dooku thrashes, Anakin drags him into a crude headlock.

At this point, Method 4 of permanently returning the “undead” to the “dead” occurs to him. His chest tightens but he doesn’t lose his grip; Dooku writhes for a moment but eventually stills, realizing that from his position he can no longer move.

Both kneeling men look to their Sire, his cackling trailing off as he straightens his spine and leans forward on his throne.

His command doesn’t even echo in the barren room as he simply demands, “Kill him.”

Anakin doesn’t even think twice as he cracks Dooku’s neck before using brute strength to go so far as to decapitate him. Then he collapses, like his spine can no longer bear his weight.

“Good, good,” Palpatine smiles, rising from his seat to reach out towards Anakin. “You’ve proven yourself to be just as admirable as I had imagined.”

“What is the purpose of all this?” Anakin asks, leaning away from the cold touch, struggling to his knees. “Why have you come back?”

“My boy, I never left!”

* * *

 

Barriss and Luminara join the other five inside the building to help clear it. The sun has burned out the entire east side of the building and the hunters have caught all the stragglers. They push forwards towards the west, but most of the nest has now been cleared out; if they missed any vampires, the creatures have certainly learned that their best bet for survival is far, far away.

“This is a good  _ Buffy  _ team,” Ahsoka comments, smiling to herself. “Don’t you guys think? We’re awesome.”

Aayla gently shushes her as they approach a closed door. A muddled voice can be heard from the other side but no words discerned. The hunters-plus-Obi-Wan gather outside the door in a strike formation, waiting for Padme’s signal to bust down the door. Little known to the humans, their “prey” knows they’re there.

“Do you smell that?” Palpatine cooes, gently touching a clawed hand to Anakin’s cheek. “Fresh blood. When was the last time you had a proper meal? Rise and eat, child. Rise and eat.”

Anakin stumbles to his feet, unsteady and slick with Dooku’s blood. But he’s not hungry-- the hot blood of that poor, innocent woman still thrums through his body with every guilt-ridden move he makes. He will not fall victim to Palpatine’s persuasive voice ever again. “Where’s Obi-Wan?”

“You will have your human once you’ve regained your strength,” Palpatine promises with his forked tongue and red eyes.

Aayla is the one who kicks down the door. Of course, Anakin has no idea who this blue-haired woman is, but she’s got a stake poised as the rest of the humans jump into the room behind her grand entrance, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan among them. As soon as Anakin sees him, he wants to grab Obi-Wan and never let go.

“Ah,” Palpatine sighs, clearly disappointed with the turn of events as he’s slowly surrounded. “You brought friends.”

“No use running,” Ahsoka threatens, raising her own weapon.

“Not yet,” Anakin tells her, reaching into his pocket for a rumpled, folded piece of paper. “I still need him for something.  _ Then _ we can kill him.”

He finishes unfolding the page, upon which a simple title is inked: _On Potentially Reversing The Effects of Vampirism._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! we did it! the Final Chapter--more of an epilogue, really-- has already been written and is waiting to be posted :D you'll see it probably tomorrow, unless I get impatient and post it tonight! who knows!  
> comments+kudos always appreciated c:  
> ((once again: any mistakes are my own; let me know if you see anything Horribly Awful))


	7. Mornings (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue of sorts. Anakin can't get enough of the sunshine, or of Obi-Wan.

Anakin doesn’t let Obi-Wan out of his sight for three days afterwards-- three days save for bathroom time, which Anakin almost didn’t let him even have, until Obi-Wan convinced him that  _ there aren’t even any windows in there, Anakin, honestly, the only way in is through the door or by punching a hole through the wall, and I’m sure you’ll be right outside the entire time… _

Needless to say, Anakin is still very shaken up by the whole ordeal. But now he can eat mac’n’cheese. He and Obi-Wan eat a  _ lot _ of mac’n’cheese.

Sure, he’d only been a vampire for about a year, but without any kind of variety in food... yeah, Anakin misses having texture and something that didn’t taste like metal. Sue him.

Obi-Wan steps out of the bathroom still towelling his hair, tendrils of steam snaking around his ankles. Anakin smiles, soaking up the sight of Obi-Wan’s freckled skin.

“Did you miss me for those fifteen minutes?” Obi-Wan laughs, acknowledging the appreciative gaze directed towards him.

Anakin’s smile grows a little. “Yeah.”

Now that Anakin’s mortality is back, Obi-Wan can’t help but once more entertain the idea of their companionship becoming more… well,  _ less.  _ Less platonic, he means. While Anakin’s nightmares have been slowly leaving him, he still insists on staying in Obi-Wan’s bed every night, the two curling up around each other, anchoring each other down.

“I’m going to meditate for an hour,” Obi-Wan informs his housemate, settling down in the bay window of their living room. The curtains are thrown completely open, the blinds taken down to allow sunlight to flood into the apartment. Anakin rises to join him, sprawling out in the sun, enjoying the Vitamin D.

After about half an hour of silence save for the two men’s breathing, Anakin sits up and shifts closer to Obi-Wan, who cracks open an eye to see what his friend is doing. Anakin scoots as close as possible, knocking their knees together. It reminds Obi-Wan of when Anakin used to so rudely rip open blood bags, knowing that Obi-Wan hated the smell and sight of it.

Now, though, Anakin just stares at him with big blue eyes, the slightest of smiles contently resting upon his face.

“What?” Obi-Wan asks, feeling himself lean forward.

“I was so scared,” the brunet whispers, eyelids heavy. “Thought I’d lost you forever. Wouldn’t have known what to do with myself.”

“I’m right here,” Obi-Wan reassures him, placing a hand on the back of Anakin’s neck and bringing their foreheads together. “We’re okay.”

Anakin closes his eyes and closes the gap between them, gently pressing his lips to Obi-Wan’s. They sit in the sunlight together, gently embracing each other as they kiss.

“I love you,” Anakin whispers when he draws away.

Obi-Wan smiles, tucking a strand of golden-brown hair behind Anakin’s ear. A sense of peacefulness and completeness settles in his stomach, the kind meant to be achieved by meditation somehow accomplished by such a simple gesture. “I love you too.”

“Let’s grow old together.”

“That certainly sounds like one of your better ideas.”

“Shut up,” Anakin snorts, but there’s not a trace of malice in the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! sorry if it wasn't want you were looking for, but hey, I felt like it was a nice close sooo.
> 
> what a wild ride, tbh. HEY! I FINALLY FINISHED A CHAPTERED FIC! :D are you guys proud of me??? I can't believe I didn't abandon it, honestly, I'm so happy and proud of myself.


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